


Fic: Homecoming

by LorraineMarker



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-18
Updated: 2011-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LorraineMarker/pseuds/LorraineMarker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Jammer and Felix Gaeta are stranded. One man sees all he lost, the other hope.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Fic: Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Civilization Lost](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/3239) by i want 2. 



> Jammer and Felix Gaeta are stranded. One man sees all he lost, the other hope.

  
Bright sparks had blinded Jammer for a precious few seconds as the Raptor lost altitude, going from flying to falling like a rock. By the time he'd realized something had blown on the pilot's console, they were already in the tree line and going down. Rocket died on impact, so did Brasko and Caddy. It left him and Mr. Gaeta as the only survivors. At least, Rocket had managed to bring the Raptor out past the trees, which was the only reason the two of them survived. Unfortunately, it also meant they had no protection from anything else.

Pulling the bodies out took time. Burying them took more, but it wasn't just the right thing to do, it was the safe thing to do. Jammer thought the first mattered more to Mr. Gaeta than the second, but not to him. The planet had animals and they didn't need more trouble than they had on hand. Rather than risk finding out the hard way which animals were predators, they buried them and built a cairn over the graves.

After, they set out motion detectors from the survival packs. At least now, they would have warning if one of the animals approached. Only then did they take true stock of their situation.

At first, he thought they'd get off and back to the Fleet. The canopy was intact. Mr. Gaeta had his wings. They had fuel and a jump engine. The Fleet designed Raptors for in-flight emergency repairs by the flight crew with easy access to systems, swappable circuit boards and power cells, and full manuals on-board along with necessary tools and vital components. Even with no wireless and half the pilot's console blown out, they should have been able to repair them both with the components on board and lift off.

Ten seconds after they got the panel opened, he knew what had happened—the last maintenance team hotwired a non-compliant power cell into the panel. The Raptor was one of the museum pieces they had pulled back into service. They all needed fresh cells and some rewiring. Like everything else, they'd already cleared out most of the spare parts off _Galactica_ before her decommissioning. The maintenance team probably pulled the cell from civilian stock. The power cell was probably intended for one of the passenger liner's ship to shore shuttles. Never designed to take the kind of power loads a Raptor demanded. It got it running, but shorted quickly. Now, the entire panel was just so much melted slag.

"Well, that panel's blown to hell," Mr. Gaeta observed in a mild tone. It shouldn't have made a difference; the ECO panel was fully swappable. The wireless wasn't and the fire fried it, too. It would mean lifting without DRADIS, communications, or any electronic countermeasures, but they'd still be able to lift.

When they opened the ECO panel, Jammer immediately saw the same non-compliant hot-wired power cell configuration. They weren't getting off the ground. No way could they safely lift off. Even without fighting gravity and atmosphere, it was likely to blow out the pilot's panel. In atmosphere, there was no way in hell the configuration would take the load, and the raptor wouldn't survive a second crash. He backed away from the panel to sit by the pilot's chair and just buried his head in his hands. They were staying.

It took Mr. Gaeta a little longer to concede the truth. He didn't say a word. Jammer saw the tight knot in his jaw he got when he got mad, but he didn't say a word about the mistake. It wasn't Jammer's fault. He wasn't assigned Raptor maintenance. Caddy and Brasko were, but if they were the ones who'd screwed up, they'd already paid the price.

"Jammer, pull the power cells from everything else. Check them for leaks and wiring configuration. Dispose of the bad ones and rig one of the good ones to work the hatch. The rest stack." Mr. Gaeta said it evenly, in his polite, very proper junior officer voice. The one he thought didn't give away how pissed off he was. It was the voice he used when someone screwed up bad, but the only person there was some poor schmuck who had to fix the problem, but wasn't the one who screwed up. Normally, Jammer liked Mr. Gaeta's voice, but not when it sounded coldly expressionless.

"Yes, sir."

Most of the power cells were more of the non-compliant civilian stock. Others were damaged either in the crash or, more likely, defective originally. It seemed like this bird was the one picked for every crappy piece of equipment on the flight deck. He didn't really think it was sabotage. Just bad luck and inexperienced maintenance teams, but they remained screwed either way. By the time, he finished rigging the hatch night had fallen, dropping the temperature from chilly to frigid.

When he turned, he discovered Mr. Gaeta had been busy. He had popped open the panel on the wireless unit and pulled all the circuit boards. They were mostly melted slag damaged either by the fire or due to their own non-complaint power cells. He had also pulled circuit boards from ECO panel. Other than the power cells, all removed, they were mostly undamaged. He was still working when Jammer turned, a frown of concentration on his face as his hands danced over a circuit board gently pulling solder and unthreading wire. He watched silently admiring Mr. Gaeta's precise competence.

After a few minutes, Mr. Gaeta looked up with a tight smile. "I think I can use the ECO circuitry to rewire the wireless unit. The wireless' power cell is as frakked, as the pilot's, but if we can rig one of the compliant power cells to it we might be able to get out a message."

It was a lot of 'maybe' and 'might', but Jammer understood that was what officers were supposed to do: keep trying until maybe and might ran out and they had to deal with what was. It was also at least a couple of weeks' worth of work. Unlike the ECO and pilot's panels, he couldn't just swap them. The wireless was the one thing with a unique configuration. There were supposed to be replacement parts, but, of course, there weren’t. Mr. Gaeta would have to pick off the melted wiring and power cell without damaging the underlying panel, take apart the ECO panel's circuitry, and use the components to rewire the wireless' circuitry. Jammer had no doubt about Mr. Gaeta's ability to do it, but it would be tedious, time consuming, and _Galactica_ would give up the search and jump long before he finished.

He thought about pointing all that out. They had food and water from the emergency supplies, the camp was secure, and it was a chance, if only a slim one, of rescue. If it didn't work, they had the survival gear, the Raptor, and the arms in the Raptor's weapons locker. It wasn't much, but the planet was survivable. He could focus on preparations for surviving here, while Mr. Gaeta worked on trying to establish communication with _Galactica_. Besides, the Old Man might stay. He did for Starbuck, long past when everyone else had given up hope. The Commander had a hard time letting go of his men. It was a damned slim chance leaving just enough hope for Jammer to say, "Yes, sir."

"Jammer, we'll make it off this rock."

He tried to sound like he believed him, but couldn't manage more than another weak, "Yes, sir."

  
~~~   


  


A week later, Jammer had given up even the slim hope he had entertained earlier. They heard search and rescue birds a couple of times, but not close enough to try to signal. After a few days, they stopped hearing them. Mr. Gaeta still worked on the wireless, not ready to give up. Jammer worked on making their camp more secure by clearing some of the scrub and grass to improve visibility. He also started make short explorations into the forest. They could stay here for now, but eventually they'd have to move. When they did, he wanted at least a direction to go.

True to their luck, the planet stayed cold during the day to drop to frigid at night. Without power the Raptor's metal hull lost heat rapidly. Even using the power cell to close the hatch they were both shivering shortly after sunset. They spent a couple of the good power cells running the environmental controls to pick up the heat a little. It didn't help much. They slept badly, each wrapped in a sleeping bag on the hard, cold Raptor deck. They could hear animals, night predators who roared and growled, definitely of the 'they will eat you' rather than 'you can eat them' variety. He woke one night to find Mr. Gaeta sitting up, knees to chest, rubbing tears from his eyes. He rolled over and pretended he was still asleep, but the next night he made a point of moving his sleeping bag a little closer.

The next morning, he discovered something had been at the cairn. Mr. Gaeta helped him restack the rocks and add more. Jammer figured them for scavengers, rather than true predators, but the size of the scratch marks worried him.

That night, they sat up, listening to a series of roars and growls. The animals were exploring closer. Mr. Gaeta watched the hatch, sitting still and looking worried.

"You know, when they're loud like this, it means they've already eaten."

"I had survival training, Jammer."

Gaeta’s voice sounded remote, slightly irritated. It made Jammer feel off kilter. He had only wanted to reassure him. "I know, sir, I'm sorry, it's just. . . ." somehow he didn't think saying 'you look nervous' would help, so he shut up.

"Jammer, I think under the circumstances, you can drop the sir." The irritation was gone, but not the remoteness.

Jammer let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. "Yes, sir, I mean Gaeta,” he corrected nervously. “Actually, I was thinking, if there are predators, that implies there has to be animals small enough for them to hunt."

"You want to go hunting?" Gaeta asked him looking at him curiously. He realized it was unlikely Gaeta had ever been hunting. He'd probably done the six-week survival course on Scorpia and never camped, except for that one time.

"Sure, my family had a cabin and we went hunting every year. I know how to do snares and track game. Besides, meat would be good."

Gaeta grinned, the first smile he'd seen from him since the crash. "Meat would be great." His voice was warmly approving, almost happy.

Jammer smiled back, unaccountably cheered by Gaeta's approval.

  


  
~~~   


  


After that, while Gaeta worked on the wireless unit, Jammer hunted to supplement the food supply. He thought Gaeta had lost track of time. He hadn't; they were at two weeks, long past the point where search and rescue would have been called off, past the point when the Fleet would have jumped leaving them for dead. Gaeta wasn't ready to let go yet, so Jammer let him finish the repairs to the wireless.

He tried to create a sense of normality, making meals at regular times, or as regular as he could manage. Gaeta did come out to eat with Jammer. After the first few days, he maintained a deliberately cheerful façade Jammer carefully avoided poking at. Without any other companionship, they became friends. They talked about what they had lost in the attacks—home and family—their worlds entirely. It was, he realized, easier for him. As he suspected, Gaeta had grown up in the city, had never been away from a city, except when he did the required survival training and in space. The last didn't count because space was 'roughing it' only from the standpoint that they lived in a metal can. With meals, power, and heat they could depend on, it was just a matter of doing their jobs and showing up at mess hall. He supposed, to Gaeta, their stranding here was another apocalypse, only differing from the first in the death toll.

From Jammer's perspective, they'd already lost everything and the planet was better than the Fleet. They could live here. Not the entire Fleet; not safely—nothing protected or hid them from the Cylons. With only two people, they could hide easily enough. They had food and water in abundance. He liked having grass and dirt under his feet and skies over his head instead of hull and deck. It was cold, miserably cold, and Jammer really hoped this was winter, not summer. Other than that, he thought they were better off than the ones left on ships. They were, at the very least, safer than floating in metal cans, waiting for the next attack.

Besides, the planet was beautiful. Well technically, it was a moon, orbiting a gas giant planet, but it was big and green and had atmosphere, so Jammer tended to think of it as a planet. They had crashed in a valley between a forest and a lake. In the distance, past the lake, he saw mountains. Tall peaks of steel-gray and white wreathed with mist. At sunrise and sunset, the sky turned dark oranges with shimmering reds and purples. The gas giant had rings, which reflected light. It meant that it never got completely dark. There were other satellites, some larger, but most were smaller than the one they landed on. Jammer hadn't managed an accurate count, because the skyscape kept changing. There was one he thought actually orbited their satellite giving the moon a moon of its own. He thought Gaeta would be able to figure it out if he spent more time outside the Raptor.

Gaeta spending time outside the Raptor would happen soon. They would both have to live outside the Raptor within the next day or two. They were down to two power cells, the one running the hatch, nearly used and the one Gaeta had reserved for the wireless. He didn't want to push Gaeta, he'd come to the realization this world was their new home eventually by himself. Gaeta grounded himself in reality. It wouldn't take much longer before he'd do what he had done after the attacks—acknowledge what had happened, grieve, and move on. Jammer had to tell him about the power cell, though.

  


  
~~~   


  


"The power cell on the door is failing."

Gaeta looked up from the leg bone he was chewing on. He swallowed. "That's the only one except the one I set aside to try with the wireless."

His full attention distracted Jammer. Gaeta always focused totally on what he was doing. Every once in awhile on _Galactica_ , he would work with Gaeta and have his complete attention. It always sent a frisson of something like attraction zinging through him. He used to ignore it. Back then ignoring it was the only safe response. Now he felt the same frisson at Gaeta's steady regard and he suddenly realized they were going to be stuck together for the rest of their lives. He looked down, hoping Gaeta hadn't caught his blush.

"We could swap out the power cells. It would give us a little more time in the Raptor," Gaeta offered.

It would cost Gaeta his last chance to contact _Galactica_ , too high a price for a few more days of security. Jammer shook his head. "The power cell on the hatch doesn't have enough juice to run the wireless. I think we can close the door, but I'm not sure it will reopen."

After a curt nod, Gaeta continued eating silently. Jammer missed his voice. They only talked at meals and right before they went to sleep. He kept quiet himself, recognizing Gaeta's 'thinking face' and let him be.

"All right, start sorting through the survival gear and picking out what we need that we can carry. I should be ready to test the wireless this evening. Either we're off this rock by nightfall or we're ready to move in the morning."

"Sounds like a plan."

Gaeta gave him a wry grin. "Not much of one."

  


  
~~~   


  


The scent of scorched circuits told Jammer that Gaeta's last assessment had been correct—it wasn't much of a plan—and it hadn't succeeded. Jammer had continued his explorations while hunting. Limited to a few hours' range in any direction, Jammer didn't know as much as he wanted. But, he had explored enough to have a rough idea of where they would be safest. He shifted his eyes from the stack of survival gear to where Gaeta sat in the pilot's chair. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Gaeta rub the back of his hand across his face. He was crying.

Not time for comfort, not yet. He wasn't ready. He needed to get mad first. Jammer watched subtly, waiting as Gaeta worked through his emotions. It wasn't his fault, the entire ship was frakking cursed. It went back to the deck crew losing eighty-five people in the initial attack and taking on a half-assed set of manual labors, plumbers, and electricians who had no frakking clue what a Raptor or Viper needed to keep working. A half-assed jury rig that blew out a house's electrical panel was expensive. On a Raptor, the same half-assed jury rig was a death trap. He waited until Gaeta slumped forward, finally letting his tears come unhindered, before he moved.

Jammer massaged his shoulders working around the seat's headrest to circle his thumbs into the tense muscles. Not until the tears stopped and the tension left Gaeta's shoulders did he speak. "Time to let go, Gaeta."

"I know." He took a deep breath before shrugging off Jammer's hands. "I'm okay." He walked out of the Raptor and Jammer watched him stare off into the distance towards the mountains.

They couldn't safely operate the hatch and it would be too cold tonight for them to continue sleeping separately. Jammer packed everything they were taking with them, except the sleeping bags and survival blankets, into two packs. What spare clothes they had, he rolled on the bottom. Camp supplies, rations, and medical kit, he neatly sorted on top of those, stowing the items most likely needed in an emergency in the outside pockets. Weapons and the compasses they'd carry on equipment belts.

By the time Gaeta came back in, it was nearly dark and he'd set out the sleeping bags, two on the bottom with a survival blanket covering them and the other two on top with another survival blanket. Gaeta stared silently at the nest for a few seconds. For a second, Jammer anticipated him protesting, but he just took off his boots and curled on his side.

"I knew," he whispered, "with so many satellites they could never have located us without the wireless signal. And . . . it took me too long. Even if I had gotten the wireless going, _Galactica_ must have given up the search days ago. I just hoped, maybe they'd left a relay, but it wouldn't have been safe for them to leave anything the Cylons could use to track them."

Outside the sun set quickly, sending the temperature plummeting. Jammer pulled off his boots setting them next to Gaeta’s. He lay down next to him, his chest to Gaeta’s back. He pulled the sleeping bags and survival blanket over them, tucking in the edges to keep as much warmth as possible in.

"It wasn't your fault," he whispered back.

It wasn't. Hell, it wasn't the maintenance crew's fault, not really. They were completely overwhelmed by the number of repairs and the shortages. Chief tried to make sure every bird had at least one experienced hand, but well, he didn't have the deck crew left to do that, not all the time. This bird got frakked and here they were.

"I wasted the power cell. We could have used it stay secure in the Raptor a few more days."  
Gaeta shivered. Even in their nest it remained cold. Jammer wanted to hold him and reassure him. He was too nervous for the first and wasn’t sure if he had the words for the second.

"You had to try. Besides, it's better this way. If we have to leave the Raptor, we should get it over and done. You know, just go and not look back. There's a place closer to the lake with a bit of a hill and a stand of trees. We can build a shelter. It won't be much at first, but over time we can make a nice home. Think about it, a little cabin with a fireplace. Tables and chairs and a bed are all easy to make with the tools on the raptor. It will take awhile, but we'll figure out which plants are safe and can have a garden." He spoke a little too quickly, wondering if Gaeta could hear the nervousness in his voice.

Gaeta shuddered against him, breath uneven. "I have no idea how to do any of those things. I'm the last person you should be trapped with."

"Nah, you're smart, you'll figure it out. We'll figure it out together. It will be a good home for us." More confident, Jammer shifted his arms to circle Gaeta. "I wouldn't want to be stranded on a deserted moon with anyone else, Gaeta."

Gaeta lay silent for so long Jammer almost thought he had fallen to sleep. Finally, with a soft chuckle, he said, "If we’re going to be the only two humans here, I think maybe you better consider calling me Felix."

"Okay, Felix it is."  


  



End file.
